The bare fact that Hell was more of a bureaucracy than anything else would probably be a source of ironic vindication to all those countless people who thought themselves clever to make the comparison.
Truth was, Hell was really something of a business, in a very roundabout sort of way. The souls of all those who died ended up in this domain, be they saint or sinner, and were then processed to find their ultimate destination by way of judging their lives and seeing what they have earned for themselves. Both the quality of the life spent and the deeds performed are taken into consideration for this judgment.
"It's like Defending Your Life. Did you ever see that movie?"
The Archangel Gabriel looked sidelong at Lucifer and nodded mutely, not seeing the point he was trying to make.
All in all, Heaven got the good and just people while the a-holes and monsters were consigned to Hell where they were tormented for x number of years before being 'recycled' back into the great circle of life. It was their punishment that, in effect, powered Hell. Since Heaven was fueled by both the faith of those living and the goodness of those in current attendance, it would thus make sense that Hell, the place that was nearly a complete opposite of Heaven, would require the opposite fuel source.
"You...I was there, Lucifer. I know the design."
Lucifer turned his head to look at her over his shoulder, cheesy grin frozen in place. He let it drop after a second, running a palm over his forehead. "Yeah yeah, I know. I just need to practice my sales pitch to Michael or else the hard-ass will never hear me out."
"I'm not going to hear you out if you don't speak plainly, brother. I don't much care for thoughtless procrastination." The messenger of God was still annoyed at having been called down to the infernal realm on such little notice and for something so trivial, irregardless of how often she visited anyway.
Lucifer sniffed impetuously. "You're always talking my ear off; what's the harm in returning the favor?" Gabriel hummed dangerously. " Fine," Lucifer flicked his hands dismissively, "we'll talk boring ol' logistics." He beckoned and a chair scooted across the floor - something that would at least look more impressive if it wasn't a wheeled office chair - and positioned itself perfectly to allow him to sit across from his little sister on the loveseat sofa. "Up front: Hell is overpopulated."
Gabriel was understandably dubious. Hell may have been the opposite of Heaven, but the two did share several key aspects, including a supposed infinite expansion for the souls gathered there to combat just such a problem as the Morning Star was suggesting. But, despite her annoyance with him, she trusted her brother not to make a dumb joke like this and must have some genuine issue at hand. "I assume that you have proof to go with your 'sales pitch'?"
"Not really on me, no. But it would just take a couple of minutes touring Hell to see it for yourself: the souls are crowded like never before, piled up in stacks in some places and just crushing each other endlessly. The rivers are choked up and are barely more than trickles now, hardly anybody is actually getting their intended punishments and all my workers are at their limits just keeping the masses under control. All my authority counts for two things: Jack and Shit, and Jack left town."
Gabriel got that reference as well, but kept it to herself. "This is unprecedented. The souls of humans have always been smoothly kept in check without any fear of imbalance or delay. What could have caused this disturbance in the order of things?"
The Angel known as Satan shrugged in exasperation. "They're humans, Gabby. They live to do two things: eat and reproduce. Back when it was all desert pilgrimages and scarce crops, having one or two children was an accomplishment worth the potential hardships. Nowadays it's literally an inconvenience for some! Bitching and moaning about having to pay for the welfare of a child they had on the side. Even with the countermeasures they invented to slow down birthrates, so many people ignore them anyway and just keep rutting like...like freaking rabbits!
"With all the advancements in medicine and technology, it's actually harder for them to die. Disease, famine and war are still things they have to deal with, but by and large a lot of them live better than royalty did a few decades ago and it's considered middle-class."
"This sounds as though you are resentful."
Lucifer calmed down a bit, having gotten caught up in his tirade. He took a sip from the metal cup on the table, not caring if it was his or her's. "Just frustrating, is all. Watching them squander their lives running in a circle and then complaining to us about not having accomplished anything. They won't kill themselves from overpopulation on Earth; technology still has time to save them from that eventually. But the point is that there are faaaaar more of them than there ever were in the old days, and so many are dissatisfied with their lives that they end up in Hell by default - just bumming around for a little bit before being reborn and starting the whole thing over again. Do you see the problem with that?"
Gabriel gave it some serious thought. Humans were a distressing lot as it was. Most of the other Angels tried not to interact with them very much anymore, preferring instead the intermediaries of Cherubs and Principalities, the poor schmucks. But if they were actually propagating her brother out of home and job, something really had to be done about that. "Would a calamity of some sort help ease their numbers? A plague, or perhaps another meteorite?" Extreme solutions for extreme problems.
Lucifer, however, looked appalled. "Are you kidding? That would be precisely the worst course of action! The numbers would stack up tenfold and the backlog of rebirths would make sure they stay there! And if it was something really bad, we could just as easily wipe out humanity sooner than helping them! There's a reason we stopped that wholesale nonsense!"
Gabriel rubbed her nose for a second before ripping her sash off and throwing it at him. "For FUCK's sake Lou, I'm just trying to help! You think I have any idea how to fix this shitstorm?!"
"No, I don't, and neither do I, thus the need to get Michael to extract his head from out of His ass and brainstorm something helpful." The Lord of Hell reached into a pocket and pulled out a packet of antacid tablets. He popped three from the foil wrapper and chewed them angrily before offering some to Gabriel. She waved them off but immediately grabbed them from his hand and took one. Hm, berry-flavored.
"So we can't kill more humans," she stated matter-of-factly.
"Nope," Lucifer agreed, using one foot to slowly spin him around in the chair.
"And we can't increase rebirth rates."
"Out."
"So then, our only options are either...an expansion of Hell."
Satan nodded, but not very enthusiastically.
"A lowered standard for entry into Heaven."
He scrunched up his lips and shook his head. That would just pass his problem off to them, and he wasn't that much of a dick.
"Or, and I'm saying this purely from a hypothetical standpoint with no deciding authority behind it, we help humanity."
Lucifer stopped spinning, but he did keep pushing himself a little one way and then the other with his toe. He was quiet for a spell, which was a dangerous sign. He may not have been the most powerful of their angelic kin, but he was most definitely the shrewdest: he had, after all, asked to be put in charge of Hell, knowing that it would give him the authority to throw his weight around in debates and generally operate without overbearing supervision.
"If we're still being hypothetical here, then let's say we give the humans a couple of...let's say nudges in the direction of expanding and finding new homes. Numbers will work for them there, and many could find purpose in colonization efforts." Gabriel knew for a fact that Lucifer had enjoyed the Mass Effect games a little while ago, having watched him play through the first one a second time for her benefit. Satan didn't really have anything positive to say about the ending of the third one, but the general theme of hope and yadda yadda survival seemed to have stuck with him.
"Of course, we would need Michael's and the other's approval of any such plan of action."
"But of course." Lucifer had interlaced his fingers in his lap and was chasing his thumbs. "Raphael would most probably like the idea of protecting humanity and the Earth."
"Chamuel would certainly not object to decreasing the general fear and hostility."
"And Azrael would never say no to helping all those grieving for what must look like a dying planet."
The two angels, one idolized and the other vilified by the very people they were scheming to save, grew silent and contemplative. Between them, they could sway most of their divine family on the matter of direct intervention, but the others would be more difficult to influence, golden boy Michael most of all. They would need to be very, very clever about this...